


Prey

by morning_coffee



Category: Alias (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9478079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morning_coffee/pseuds/morning_coffee
Summary: A friendly game of cat and mouse.





	

Sydney's glares follow him wherever he goes; and he's well aware that if looks could kill, he'd be very, very dead by now. Mr. Tippin, on the other hand, makes an admirable effort to _not_ look at him. Even with the room full of CIA agents, it seems as if he's terrified beyond belief.

_Fascinating._ Sark smirks. And, as they walk out of the room, deliberately brushes against Will. Who, in return, sharply draws in air and hurries to get away. 

He makes it as far as the elevator. The doors have almost closed behind him when Sark slips in. Will looks as if wants to shrink into the wall.

"I believe the circumstances when we last met were rather unfortunate," Sark says conversationally.

Will's fists clench at his side. Oh yes, he remembers Taipei. Sark's smirk broadens. He takes a step towards the other man - only to find himself facing down the muzzle of a gun, held in trembling hands. If anything, it amuses him even more. 

"One more step and your brain will be scattered all over that wall." It's certainly meant to sound intimidating. And maybe it would, if Will's voice weren't shaking as much as the rest of him.

Sark raises his hands in mock surrender. He graciously refuses to comment on the fact that the safely is still on.

"I remember you were begging nicely on that plane," he comments, a velvety taunt accompanied by an unwavering smirk. "Let's make a friendly wager." He pauses, watching Will as the surge of anger at his first statement struggles with curiosity about the latter. There's no question as to which will win out. After all, Will is a reporter. "I bet I can make you beg for an entirely different reason before they get us out of here." Before Will can react or even process his words, Sark has hit the 'halt' button. There's a brief rumble and the light flickers. The elevator cabin rocks once before coming to a stand-still. 

Will's eyes are wide and panic-stricken. "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

The fact that he doesn't ask Sark why he stopped the elevator alone is indication enough for the other man to tell it's a lie. Or maybe denial.

"I think you do," Sark says with a feral grin. He takes a step closer towards Will, who seems to have forgotten the gun, rooted to the spot and trembling with something Sark thinks is only part-fear.

There's nothing like a friendly game of cat and mouse at the end of a boring day.

End.


End file.
